


His

by Traviosita9124



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Strained Relationship, Unplanned Pregnancy, tw: talk of abortion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 19:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4149522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traviosita9124/pseuds/Traviosita9124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a one-night stand, Jemma finds out she’s pregnant. Plot twist: Leo Fitz isn’t the father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His

**Author's Note:**

> After writing the stories in the "Two Blue Lines" series, I was asked by Jen if it was possible to write a baby fic where Fitz wasn't the father of Jemma's unplanned baby. This is my attempt at that prompt.

All he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears.

 

He sees her, eyes red-rimmed and tear-filled, her mouth moving as she stutters out excuses and apologies, but he’s not actually processing any of it.

 

He turns from her without saying anything, and stumbles into the common area where the rest of the team is waiting.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

He’s leaning against the dividing wall, the one that separates the seating area from the bunks, his eyes fixated on the carpet at Simmons’ feet as she explains her situation to the team.

 

She’s 12 weeks pregnant.

 

The reactions vary, from a stoic May and Ward to a visibly disappointed Coulson. Skye was the only one to approach Simmons, wrapping her arms around the biochemist and allowing her to cry into her shirt. He feels a dull tightening in his chest, the acknowledgement that he should have gone to hug her, but the numb sensation that overtook him when she told him roots him to the spot.

 

Skye fixes him with a glare then, and one by one, the rest of the team turns their attention to him, eyes expectant.

 

He suddenly sees it the way they would: a pregnant Simmons and a sullen Fitz, the scientists who spend all their time together. The pieces click into place, and anger burns through him, sensation flooding back into his chest. He kicks away from the wall, taking one step into the room and deliberately meeting each of their eyes.

 

“Dinnae look a’ me like tha’. ’S no’ like i’s mine.”

 

He turns on his heel and bolts simply to escape the tormented look on Jemma’s face, and to hide the tears that are suddenly streaming down his.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

He’s managed to avoid her for three weeks.

 

While she and Skye stick to their regular 9:00 to 6:00 hours in the lab, he lapses back into his habits from the Academy. He wakes at 2:00, does research in the command center before stumbling into the lab at 6:30, and works through the night until he slips back into his bunk at 5:00. He works on his projects, wrestling with his anger and despair and lust each time he notices something Simmons has done in the lab.

 

His tools rearranged after he’d left them out one day.

 

His favorite lab coat washed and freshly pressed on another.

 

The two dozen notes she’d left on his station that he’d simply swept into the trash.

 

So, he shouldn’t have been surprised to find Skye lurking in the lab, apparently waiting for him, but he still jumps when her voice breaks the silence to which he’d grown accustom.

 

“She misses you.”

 

He continues working, refusing to give any sign that her words have affected him, despite the fact that his pulse is now racing.

 

“What the hell, Fitz, you’re her best friend. Did you even know they’re trying to assign her to a teaching position at the Academy? They won’t give her a straight answer when she asks how long she’d have to be there, either.”

 

He schools his movements, careful to not show Skye that his hands are trembling at the thought of Simmons being moved off the Bus. He ignores the creeping feeling of Skye’s stare on his back, eyes intent on the blueprints before him.

 

He hears her mutter, “Jackass,” as she stalks out of the lab.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Simmons is the next to surprise him a few short hours later.

 

As he’s climbing the stairs, dreaming of bed, he suddenly has an armful of biochemist. Fitz nearly falls backwards down the stairs in his rush to get away from her.

 

The look in her eyes is determined, and he feels his own ire begin to churn in his gut.

 

“I’m sick of this. We need to talk.”

 

His nod is terse as he steps aside and allows her to lead him down the stairs and back into the lab. She barely waits for the doors to glide shut before she starts in on him.

 

“You’re a bastard, you know that? You’re supposed to be my friend, not just my friend, but my BEST friend, Fitz, and you just vanish? How DARE you?!”

 

The anger that had been banked in his belly for the past three weeks sparks and flares, and he stalks over to where she’s leaned against the workbench.

 

“No, Simmons, no, you dinnae ge’ t’ be angry wit’ me because you dinnae bother t’ make him wear a condom.”

 

He takes a vindictive glee in being able to say what he’s been thinking for weeks, even as his stomach drops at the devastated look on her face. He finds he quickly loses his stomach for being vindictive when it comes to Jemma.

 

“Go on an’ be mad, Simmons,” he grinds out as lowers his face to hers, “but no’ wit’ me. I’m no’ th’ one—”

 

He finds he can’t finish the sentence, so he drops his head to break eye contact. His throat is thick with tears, and he’s not ready to have this conversation that’s bearing down on them. He brings his right hand up to rub his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose as a means for hiding the fresh gloss in his eyes.

 

“Why, Jemma? Why him, o’ all people?”

 

She knows who he’s talking about, a former colleague of theirs they had run into at the Hub back in March. Built like Ward, but with ginger hair and deep green eyes, he had caught Jemma’s attention during their first year at Sci-Ops. The affair had been brief but torrid, and had been a thorn in Fitz’ side for years.

 

“Because, Fitz, I was so frustrated, wanting you only to watch you moon over Skye. I became impatient, and he… he made me feel wanted.”

 

The fact that she’s so blunt and doesn’t even bother to dance around the ambiguous state of their relationship speaks to how stressed she’s been. He uncovers his eyes to get a better look at her; her face is ducked away and her fingers are twisting around themselves, a sure sign that she’s unsure of herself. He steps closer to her, and gently tugs at her shoulders to pull her against his chest. His hands skim down to gather her own and still their movements as he rest his cheek against hers to speak into her ear.

 

“Jemma… Jemma, I have no’ looked a’ Skye in ages. No’ since I nearly los’ you.” He allows his tears to fall, not caring that she can feel them where his face meets hers. “I was a foolish man, t’ no’ realize wha’ I fel’ for you sooner. For tha’ I am sorry.”

 

She nodded, and brought their joined hands to rest over her abdomen. The swell was slight, barely noticeable on her thin frame.

 

“I called him, right after I told you and the team. He asked if I was going to ‘get rid of it.’”

 

Fitz cringes at the choice of words, but sees the logic in making that choice. If she terminates the pregnancy, she won’t have to worry about leaving the Bus for any serious period of time.

 

“Is tha’ wha’ you wan’ t’ do?”

 

She takes longer to answer than he expects, and when she does, her voice is shaky.

 

“No, not really. I… I’m not ready to have a family, and well, I certainly never wanted a family with him.”

 

Fitz wonders if he’s imagining her implication when she plows on.

 

“I don’t want to be trapped at Sci-Ops, either. I’m afraid if I go back there that they’ll never let me back onto the Bus.”

 

“Jemma, no one woul’ think less of you if you terminated.”

 

He’s desperate to give her a way out, to be there now when he wasn’t before.

 

“I would think less of myself, Fitz. I’m 26. I wasn’t impaired when—” her voice breaks before continuing, “when it happened. I’m a grown woman who made a careless choice, and I wouldn’t feel right just ‘getting rid of it.’”

 

He nods and squeezes her hands to let her know he understands.

 

“I have some vacation time banked. I think, once I start showing, I’m going to take it. That way I can contact adoption agencies and get everything settled before coming back.”

 

Fitz feels fear grip his stomach, but knows he needs to speak. Not speaking sooner helped them into this mess in the first place.

 

“Forgive me fo’ bein’ presumptuous, bu’ I have vacation time saved, too. If you even wan’ me t’ come wit’ you, tha’ is...”

 

He feels her smile against her cheek, and relaxes as she exhales softly against him.

 

“Of course, Fitz. Of course you can come.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Seven months later, they’re back on the Bus as if nothing happened.

 

The baby, a little girl that he swore had Jemma’s eyes, and was beautiful despite having his hair, had been adopted by a wonderful couple from Boston. They had offered to send both of them pictures and other updates, but Jemma declined; she didn’t think it would be fair to maintain any kind of attachment when her work was so dangerous.

 

Now, they steal kisses and hold hands under the table as they work. They sneak into each other’s bunks and even go as far as cuddling on the sofa in the lounge. There’s no mention of anti-fraternization policies, at least not where they can hear them. Life is looking up.

 

But most of all, Fitz is just happy to be building something that is finally his.


End file.
